


To Your Health

by inbox



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 08:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inbox/pseuds/inbox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cass and Courier shoot the breeze in the Lucky 38 cocktail lounge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Your Health

Cass knew a few things. She knew how to measure the time of day with her shadow. She knew how to spot a lame Brahmin even before it showed its limp. She knew how to hold a tune, how to whistle loud enough to bounce off the hills, she knew how to make a fella pop with excitement, and she knew exactly how many caps were in a bag just by eyeing it.

She also knew there were blessed few places to catch a moment of peace 'round New Vegas, and even then it was probably too much to ask the saints for more than hour to herself.

Six took a seat across from Cass, carefully clearing away a sheet of paper covered in Cass's looping scrawl and setting down two glasses on the little low table.

"You're hell on the concentration, you know that?" Cass didn't look up from her sums. "You'd crawl into my grave if it meant keeping me from a moment of quiet."

Six laughed. "Already done that once. Can't say I recommend it. What's your poison?"

"Same as it was the day before and the day before that." She frowned and crossed out a number. "Y'know, I reckon I've got a bone to pick with you."

"One of many, no doubt."

"750 caps for my caravan papers. You must've done some trickery on me." She accepted the tumbler of whisky Six pushed it across the table, and they toasted each other with a knock of crystal against crystal. "To your health."

"To your health," Six echoed. "And maybe, maybe a little tricky talking. Maybe it's for the best."

"You reckon?" Cass eyed the beatific looking woman across the table, her healthy scepticism not hiding her amusement. They'd had this discussion a few times now, her and Six, 'round campfires and walking through the Jacobstown snow and now in the musty silence of a cocktail lounge trapped in time. "Talk that one out to me while I make some numbers dance."

Six waited a while, let her get into the rhythm of her numbers before she started. She rested her arms along the dusty sofa and admired the way the setting sun turned Cass' hair the most brilliant shade of copper she'd ever seen.

"I reckon," she started, and cleared her throat. "I reckon you've got a new beginning. Fresh starts don't come along every day for you an' me, you know that."

"No shit." Cass underlined a final number, satisfied with what she'd produced. "Keep on elucidatin' away."

"And I reckon this is all gonna wash out right for us. You know. We're gonna be standing like a bunch of bloody messes on that dam and I'm hopin' you and me are still gonna have all our limbs." She scratched at her nose with a stubby finger. "When this is over you and me are gonna have a blank slate, and I reckon that's a gift worth something."

"I'm still waiting to hear why it's good that you used your honeyed words to short change me. 750 caps, that's some Brahminshit right there." She glanced up at Six, grinning at the emphatic roll of her eyes.

"You're as prickly as a cactus," said Six.

"I'm as sweet as agave," she countered, and set her pencil down to take a long sip of whisky. "Keep talking."

"Go east," said Six. "You don't want to go back to the Hub again. Shit, go north. I've done a little talkin' to people who know people. Far Go Traders don't want to push into Oregon until the frontier gets settled. None of the Hub companies do. Reckon you could seal that place up watertight with a few good fellas on a good wage."

"You're handy with a gun," said Cass. "Reckon I'd just hire you. You look like you could haul a water barrel or two."

"Stop deflectin'."

"You keep wording me up like this and I might end up believing you." She looked out the window. From so high up she could see the sun dipping behind the mountains, the clouds tinted rosy pink. "Shit, I'm getting old. You're getting old. I dunno where you're getting this positive outlook from."

Six shrugged. "I'm still walking, I'm still talking, I'm still fuckin' and shootin' and getting some joy in my life. So you've had a plate heaped high of brahminshit lately. Who hasn't? You can't be expecting that much doom and gloom if I keep finding you up here writin' out endless lists of what you need to get another company going again."

Cass looked at the table full of papers. She had a point. The numbers were there, the know-how was there, it was just…

It was just… just.

"You're an exhausting pain in my ass, you know that?"

Six grinned. "Only 'cause you're a might sight more fun to be around when you're thinking forward for once. Tell you what. The day I can shrug off the weight of this fuckin' Mojave shitshow I've got tangled with, I'll be in the wind again. Already got it cleared with old man Nash. I'll walk papers and parcels from here to New Canaan and back, and I ain't gonna need a wealth of caps."

She stopped and looked at Cass expectantly, waiting for her unspoken offer to sink in.

"Well… shit," said Cass eventually. "If you're not jerking me around, then that's one hell of an offer."

Six sipped her whisky, as patient as ever.

"Guess that'd make up for you shortchanging me." Cass laughed awkwardly. She could've sworn Six just liked to get her on her back foot. "You're richer than Croesus and you want to dump it on me?"

"Dunno who that is. It's just caps, Cass. Sitting around counting coin isn't my style, you know that." She rolled her neck with a satisfying crack. "You know I hate it here. Hate being tied to this place. Anchored down. I reckon money is the worst anchor there is."

"You think I'll handle being anchored down better?"

"Stop going in circles. I just think you'll turn it into something better. Shit, I know you'll turn it into something better." Six squinted at her and laughed. "Can always tell when your mind's churnin' miles a minute. Relax. Sit a spell and have a drink. I interrupted your moment of quiet, so have one on me."

"Hell on the concentration, you are," said Cass, but topped up Six's outstretched glass anyway.

"That I am," said Six happily, and toasted Rose of Sharon Cassidy with a lift of her glass. "To your health, Miss Cass."


End file.
